Revenge is Sweet
by Celtic-Coonass
Summary: A Head of House rivalry has gotten out of hand and turned personal. This is a snippet from a larger WIP. This is my first attempt at FanFic. Please read and review. Sorry for any grammar errors, still learning my way around ff.net.


As long as you didn't count Peeves possessing a suit of armor and chasing all the girls out of the Gryffindor tower dormitories, life at Hogwarts had been very quiet for a few weeks. It had been too quiet for Professor Carey's comfort. Nothing had exploded or grown legs and danced in her classroom for almost three weeks. That, in itself, was very unnerving. The mysterious wooden box that had been left by Professor Snape still sat on the corner of her desk, unopened and untouched. She had no intention of opening it anytime soon, she would not give him the satisfaction.

She had her back to her class of Gryffindor and Slytherin first years as she wrote an ingredients list on the blackboard. It was not something she felt particularly comfortable doing, since there had been no retribution for what was now being called the 'Singing Pudding Incident'.

"Professor Carey?"

"Just a moment," she muttered, trying to finish the list without misspelling _Rhodiola rosea. _

"Professor Carey!"

"What is it Mr. Duckfield," Lisabet roared impatiently. She turned to face the class, intent on deducting ten points from Slytherin if the boy had interrupted her without good reason. She realized that no one had been taking notes on the formula she wrote on the blackboard, they were all staring toward the far corner of the dungeon.

"There's something in the cupboard," he explained nervously.

The ingredients cupboard was rattling and shaking, as if something were trying to get out. The students sitting closest to the cupboard had moved their chairs as far away from it as they possibly could and were eyeing it nervously. Lisabet sighed in exasperation. She knew it had been too quiet for too long.

She strode toward the cupboard, her purple robes swishing around her. The doors rattled with more intensity as she got closer to the cupboard. She stopped in front of the cabinet and studied it carefully.

"Tell me, has Professor Snape covered boggarts in your class yet," she queried.

"We don't cover boggarts until third year," offered Emily Moon, a tiny, black haired Gryffindor girl. "My brother is in third year, and they did boggarts last week."

Lisabet thought for a moment. She certainly wouldn't put it past Professor Snape to put a spare boggart in her ingredients cupboard.

"Does everyone here know what a boggart is?" she asked. Most of them nodded in acknowledgment.

"My Mum had to get rid of a boggart that had been hiding under my bed last summer," offered Ernie Keck, a pimple faced Slytherin. "She wouldn't let me watch though. She said it turned into a stack of dirty dishes, and a pile of unwashed laundry."

Lisabet stifled a chuckle, remembering that the Keck family was almost as large as the Weasleys. It was understandable that Mrs. Keck's greatest fear was a mountain of unfinished housework.

"Right. Well, a boggart is a shape shifter," she explained to those in the class who had not known. "It senses your greatest fear and then takes on that form. They can be very frightening if you don't know what you are doing, but the spell to banish them is really quite easy; I can't imagine why Professor Snape doesn't teach it until third year."

She took her wand from her pocket, and put her hand on the cupboard latch. The cupboard shook ever more violently and the bottles of ingredients inside it clinked noisily with the vibration.

"Now, you lot go stand over there, and I will see if I can banish this boggart." She motioned for the class to move toward the wall neared the door.

Pointing her wand at the violently shaking cupboard, she released the latch, and backed off a few steps, wondering what form the boggart would take. There were plenty of things she feared, like cockroaches and circus clowns, but she wasn't sure what her _greatest_ fear would be.

The cupboard door burst open, almost breaking the hinges that held it in place. Lisabet waited, expecting to see something like a giant cockroach with a big red nose creep out, but there was nothing. No creepy crawlies, no giant trolls, nothing. Puzzled, she placed her hands on her hips.

She turned to her students. "Humph. You will have to tell your D.A.D.A. professor that he is losing his touch, if that was meant to be a pr…" She stopped mid sentence as she realized each and every one of her students had disappeared from the room. She checked every corner of the room, but they were all gone. Even Misha, her cat who had been napping on top of a filing cabinet, was gone.

As she turned to check the room around her, she felt a frigid touch brush her cheek, sending a chill down her spine.

"Class," she called nervously, looking toward the door. Her voice sounded strangely muffled in the usually sonorous dungeon, like she had been speaking into a pillow. She turned to the cabinet, and once again felt the coldness brush her cheek. She pointed her wand in the direction the coldness had come from, only to feel the cold touch on the other side of her face.

* * *

The class watched as their teacher spun about franticly. Her wand pointed in front of her, she stumbled over chairs bumped into tables. She called out to them, but didn't seem to hear their frightened replies. Repeatedly she looked to where they stood against the wall but didn't seem to see them.

Determined to help his teacher, Archie Murray rushed toward her, reaching out to grasp her arm. She bumped up against him, and he only managed to grab a handful of her robes.

"Professor Carey!" he shouted, but she did not hear him.

She turned in his direction, her wand pointed at his chest. Her gray eyes were wild, as she appeared to be looking right through him, and suddenly she turned away again, pointing her wand at some unknown at her other side. Terrified, Archie let go of her robes and ran out of the dungeons.

* * *

"Professor Snape!" Archie Murray called, sticking his head inside the D.A.D.A. classroom.

Snape looked up from a particularly dreadful essay he had been grading. "Ten points from Gryffindor for disrupting my class Mr. Murray. Shouldn't you be in your potions class?"

"It's Professor Carey. There was a boggart in the cabinet, at least she thought it was a boggart, and now she is stumbling around the classroom like she's been blinded," Archie explained breathlessly.

"Damn that woman," Snape cursed as he rose from his desk and bolted from the classroom, Archie Murray at his heels.

Lisabet Carey was indeed stumbling around the classroom blindly, banging into desks, her wand raised in front of her. Her first year students had pressed themselves against the wall of the dungeon, stunned and confused.

Snape pushed past the first years and weaved through the tables and upset chairs to where Professor Carey spun wildly, trying to locate her invisible attacker. For a moment she stared in Snape's direction, looking straight through him. Careful to avoid her wand, he grabbed her from behind, his arm around her waist. She shrieked, and he felt her go limp in his hold. His wand at the ready, Snape waited for the boggart to focus its intentions on him. Surely enough, the air around him to rippled and wavered, and a mist gathered in front of him, slowly forming into a glowing green image of a skull and snake. Several of the fist years gasped, one of the girls broke into hysterical tears.

Almost as quickly as the boggart had transformed into the Dark Mark, it shifted shapes again, the snake coiled into a spring and began to bounce around like a pogo stick. The skull transformed into a brightly colored beach ball, bouncing in unison with the pogo-snake.

"Riddikulus," Snape bellowed. The ball and snake-spring dissipated into a gray mist. He turned to the students lined against the wall and realized his own class had followed him in to the dungeon.

"Class dismissed," he snarled. "Back to your common rooms!"

The students followed his command, silently filing from the room. He could hear them begin chattering nervously about the Dark Mark, as they got further from the dungeons. Ignoring them, he slowly knelt, his arm around Professor Carey's shoulders, her head resting against his chest.

* * *

Whatever dream she was having, Lisabet did not want to wake up. There were arms around her, a man's arms, cradling her and protecting her. She knew there were a _man's_ arms around her; his scent gave it away. The mysterious combination of musk, spices and pheromones was intoxicating to her as she took it in. It had been so long since she had been this close to a man. She could feel his heartbeat against her cheek, it was strong and fast. She wanted to nestle closer to him and hold on to this safe feeling for a bit longer. She did not want to leave the comfort of his arms and return to the cold loneliness of reality, but consciousness was beckoning, calling her name.

"Lisabet."

Hesitantly, she opened her eyes.

Realizing _exactly_ whose arms she was in, she scrambled to her feet, breaking Severus' hold on her. She straightened her robes and brushed off the smudges of dirt. She stood firmly in front of him, trying not to let on that she was still feeling weak, and cursed herself once she realized that she had fainted. She stared him down, her eyes full of wild fury. His dark gaze met hers. She wondered for a moment if she had detected a spark of concern in his eyes, but quickly dismissed the idea. This was _Snape_, after all.

"Professor Snape!" she exclaimed with an insulted air.

Any indication of concern quickly disappeared from his eyes, and the all too familiar sneer returned to his face.

"Stupid woman!" he shouted. "What were you thinking, releasing a boggart in a classroom full of first years?"

Lisabet scowled at him. "A boggart is a simple enough creature to banish; they stood to learn something from seeing it first hand", she growled. "Obviously their D.A.D.A. professor didn't see fit to teach his students how to banish a common household nuisance. Then again, I wonder how he finds time to teach his students anything since he finds it much more entertaining to put boggarts in my potions cupboard!"

"I set the D.A.D.A curriculum," he roared. "I suggest you mind your own pathetic excuse for a class, seeing as you are not capable of banishing a creature as _simple_ as a boggart! Stick to your voodou love potions and fizzing hair serums Professor Carey, you are unfit to teach your own class, much less fit to tell me how to teach mine!"

Snape turned on his heel and stormed from the dungeon, leaving Lisabet to wonder exactly what had just happened. He couldn't help smiling secretly. Revenge _was_ sweet. That would be the last time anyone sent him a singing pudding for his birthday.

* * *

A/N Well, there it is, my first feeble attempt. Depending on what kind of feedback you guys give me, I will continue with this. The part about the singing pudding should prove to be very interesting.

10 points and a dozen beignets to anyone who can figure out what Professor Carey's greatest fear is.


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